


i wish we'd left before (they convinced us life is war)

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, F/F, Gay Zuko (Avatar), M/M, POV Alternating, iroh took azula with him when zuko was banished and went straight to ba sing se, it's always 3rd but we're switching between zuko and azula, it's the whole ba sing se gang, the jetko is only for a few chapters and it's not serious idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: there’s a soft rustling impact behind her- someone dropping onto the straw roof next to her. it’s almost quieter than the distant waking-up sounds of the market below. if azula hadn’t grown up next to her father she wouldn’t have even noticed it. “hello, brother,” she says, and flips her hair over her shoulder.zuko sits down next to her, one knee pulled up against his chest. he’s wearing his thick brown jacket over black, a knapsack slung over his shoulder. “azula,” he says.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 145





	1. azula

Today is an early, open day in Ba Sing Se. A quiet breeze whistles between the tall buildings and the late morning moon dips low on the horizon, a promise of daylight to come. Azula sits on the roof of an apartment next to the market, looking down at the merchants tiredly setting up their wares so that they can be ready for working class people getting ready for work and criminals coming home from work. Brewing coffee and setting up displays of fruits and vegetables. 

Azula lies back against the rooftop, the straw thatching digging into her back through her shirt. She should be getting back to the Jasmine Dragon soon. She should have snuck back into her bed almost an hour ago to get another few minutes of sleep. 

She’d woken up at two in the morning missing her home. The girls at school had said that if you climbed to the top of the tallest building in the lower ring and looked east you could see the Fire Nation palace in the distance but all she can see is an expanse of farmland and a few walls. She thinks she can see a faint haze of smoke in the distance, ash from volcanoes and fire, but maybe she’s just imagining it.

Her fingers hurt from gripping the edges of window sills and bricks on her climb up and the part of her that’s more rational than proud worries that someone saw her firebend to light her way. She hates being ashamed for her firebending- the power in her, the thing that made her father proud, even if it just scares her pathetic brother- but a good Fire Princess adapts. She doesn’t put the future of the crown in danger just because she misses her father.

She doesn’t miss her father, anyway. She doesn’t miss anything. She just… she wanted to see her home again, even from miles away. 

She’d dreamt about being home again, a convoluted storyline that had slipped her mind almost as soon as she’d woken up. Some variation of a coronation, although she’s not sure whose it was. Hers? Zuzu’s? Her father’s? She remembered feeling warm and needed. Important. Appreciated. 

No one appreciates her in Ba Sing Se. She’s just another refugee with an uncle who loves her brother more. She’s fine with that, of course. She’s never been popular with her nurturing relatives. Her angst isn’t the kind they appreciate and she doesn’t do well with coddling. It’s a recipe for distance and she’s never needed them to be close to her. Zuzu thrives here, beneath his uncle’s wing. It’s disgusting.

The moon creeps lower and a bloom of pale blue and orange clouds opens above where the fire nation should be, heralding the rise of Agni. Azula’s inner fire rejoices and part of her mind does too, although she knows it just means another day of routine and powerlessness. She can do more at night, when her power is weakened. Ba Sing Se has a certain lawlessness at night and Azula appreciates the irony of her need for it- lawmaker at home, illegal here. 

The first of the criminals start to creep into the square- heads low until they find their favorite vendor, then faces open and smiling, joyful despite the bounties hanging over their heads.

Azula doesn’t have a bounty, she’d discovered. Not even a reward out for her return. Just posters for the Blue Spirit’s arrest and muttered questions as to who will succeed Fire Lord Ozai now? Jokes about the turtleducks in his gardens taking the throne, tragic moans about the loss of Lu Ten, all those years ago. Nothing for the second child of the Fire Lord, the prodigal one. 

Azula isn’t surprised, though. She’s not. She was kept the palace secret, the ace up her father’s sleeve. She was being saved for after what went down with Zuko went down. Of course there wouldn’t be more than a news story when she disappeared with her brother. Of course she would only be a footnote. 

A few of the early morning workers wander through the markets on their way to the train station, pausing to buy street food or cheap coffee. Azula watches them like ants beneath her dangling feet and imagines what their lives must be like.

Pathetic, lowly things. Mundane like she could never imagine. 

There’s a soft rustling impact behind her- someone dropping onto the straw roof next to her. It’s almost quieter than the distant waking-up sounds of the market below. If Azula hadn’t grown up next to her father she wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Hello, brother,” she says, and flips her hair over her shoulder.

Zuko sits down next to her, one knee pulled up against his chest. He’s wearing his thick brown jacket over black, a knapsack slung over his shoulder. “Azula,” he says.

They watch the rat race in the square for a while. It occurs to her to ask what her brother was doing up this early- or this late, her brain suggests, she’s only mostly sure he was home when she left the house- but he beats her to it.

“So, why are you up here?” His voice is raspy and so much deeper than it was when they left the palace. Azula wonders how she’s changed- would her father recognise her? Would her friends? “You should be getting more sleep.”

Azula’s face twists into a snarl without much command from her and she takes a moment to usher it into a sticky sweet smile. Zuko watches her face journey with the same impassive expression he watches her with all the time these days. “Don’t get sanctimonious, Zuzu. It’s still just the pot calling the kettle black. You’re sitting next to me.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Zuko stares out at the horizon, at the Fire Nation they both know is just past it. It’s not the reaction Azula was expecting, although she supposes she should have expected it. Zuko’s gotten so passive recently, like he’s let his inner fire extinguish itself with lack of use. Pathetic. A Fire Prince doesn’t let his environment shape him. A Fire Prince adapts, but he doesn’t let himself be beaten. 

“Out with Jin?” Azula leans closer to her brother and sneers.

Zuko’s face breaks into a smile at the mention of the peasant girl and Azula’s stomach twists in something she decides not to label as envy. She’d been surprised when Iroh had mentioned a girl and not even just because neither sibling had been able to make many friends, let alone go on a date. She’d always assumed her brother was a little… well, she’s hardly going to throw slurs at her own brother, but… she’d thought he was like her, maybe.

Evidently not, if his face is going to go this soft at the mention of Jin. 

“Yeah,” he says, face like he’s missing something he only just realized he has, “yeah, I was with her. We went to the Firelight Fountain. It was beautiful.”

Azula resists the urge to cross her arms and pout. “Uh-hu. I bet you thought she was just as beautiful or something, right? Pathetic. You’re getting soft.”

Zuko looks surprised and Azula rolls her eyes. You’d think he’d stop being surprised at her cruelty. Defense mechanism for a childhood lack of love or no, it’s who she is. Who she’s always been. “You think I-” He cuts himself off.

“Yes, I think you’re revolting, little brother,” Azula says. “You’d better be careful when you’re out with her, I heard the Blue Spirit is looking to take out the missing Fire Prince next.”

Any happiness on Zuko’s face drops. He picks at his nails. Azula decides bothering him about how unbecoming the gesture is isn’t worth her time. “You’re right. I’m  _ so  _ irresponsible, Ms. ‘I’ll leave home in the middle of the night without telling anyone where I’m going’,” he says to his feet. 

“Oh, did little Zuzu worry? No one cares about me here, brother, and I will do what I please.”

Zuko looks alarmed and Azula hates that. She hates it, the way her uncle and brother only care about how she’s doing when they think she poses a threat to them. “The only person who cares about me is an ocean away and-”

“You- him? You think he-”

“Our father is the only person who loved- who appreciated me.” Azula does her best to keep her voice steady as Zuko’s face reddens. This is why they don’t talk. This is why their awkward silences when they share shifts at the Jasmine Dragon are for the better.

“Ozai never loved anyone!” Zuko shouts. Azula makes a mockingly shocked face and points at the people below and Zuko quiets. “I can’t believe that you’re still-” he says, sparks spinning around his words as he talks. Azula never did learn firebreath. Iroh taught Zuko, but he never taught her. “I can’t believe you. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Why  _ did _ you come up here, Zuzu?” Azula asks. “I was perfectly fine on my own.”

Zuko’s looks away, defensiveness written across his oh so open face. Azula’s brother has always worn his face on his sleeve. You’d think it being his downfall would mean he’d learn better. “I-”

It dawns on Azula just as Agni fully makes its way above the horizon. “Uncle set you, didn’t he?”

Zuko doesn’t say anything. It’s a little surprising: Uncle doesn’t usually come into their room in the morning, so Azula doesn’t know how he figured she was gone, but maybe he needed her for an early shift at the Jasmine Dragon. “Oh, but why would he need to know where I am?” She taps a finger to her bottom lip. “Oh, hm. He’s scared, isn’t he? But not for me, no, I’m not the one he protects. He’s scared of what I’ll do.”

Zuko looks affronted that his precious uncle would ever be so calculating. Sometimes Azula thinks he forgets that even Iroh was once the Dragon. Even if he’s gone soft, he’s an imposing figure. Zuko is the only weakling. The one who needed to be weeded. “You’re so two-faced, Zuzu!” Azula says, pointing a finger at his chest. She wouldn’t normally crack this easily, even in front of Zuko, but today is a bad day. Today feels off. “You come here, acting all- Agni, I don’t know, like you  _ care,  _ but you’re just running errands for Uncle-”

“Azula,” Zuko says, with a voice like broken glass. Sharp. 

“Why does he need you to watch me, Zuko? Why doesn’t he  _ trust  _ me?” Her voice is ragged and this is  _ pathetic,  _ a breakout that is disgusting, unbecoming, shameful for someone as high-standing as her. Even more embarrassing for it to be in front of another person. 

“I don’t  _ know,”  _ Zuko says, “but he doesn't trust me either. Not either of us, and I don’t blame him, going behind his back like this, I can’t believe-” he sounds more like he’s talking to himself now, hands threaded through his dark hair.

_ Is this what I look like? Am I becoming my brother? _ The idea is repulsive- Azula is good because she is better than Zuko, and if she’s not-

“Get over yourself,” Azula says sharply. “Maybe if you weren’t so spineless, father would have loved you.”

“How can you say that?” Zuko says, golden eyes flashing some emotion Azula’s sure she’s too perfect to have. “Father hated you just as much as he did me. Why do you think you’re in Ba Sing Se with me and Uncle instead of playing at his lapdog?”

“Don’t  _ talk  _ about him. You’re just not good enough to-” Azula grinds her teeth. “Ugh! Whatever,” and she stands up, brushing straw off the back of her trousers. She leaps off the back of the building to a roof a few stories below, rolling down onto the pitched surface with the ease of dozens of nights spent doing it over and over again. If she looks up, she can see the top of Zuko’s head as he sits. 

Azula wonders what he’s thinking- if he ever thinks the same things she does, or if he’s so far gone that he actually only thinks of Azula’s father with contempt. Azula stands up again and starts her leap from roof to roof, watching the people below. She’s not sure where she’s going, only that it’s not back to the Jasmine Dragon. 

She finally situates herself above a busy intersection where an old man is selling cabbages. She’s seen him before, stubbornly at the same corner every morning, selling cabbages to the same selection of commuters who show no interest. He peddles his wares with a determination Azula would find admirable if it wasn’t so tiringly futile. It’s a drive that she sees in her brother, sometimes, the urge to go and go and go even when it all seems hopeless. Maybe something in her, too, but she’s never had to try too hard at anything. It all came naturally to her.

A yelp from the street below startles her out of her introspection and she looks down. The man’s cabbage cart is lying sideways on the ground, round cabbages rolling between the feet of pedestrians.

“My  _ cabbages,”  _ He shrieks. 

“Sorry, mister!” Some kid yells over his shoulder, darting away between other people. A Water Tribe girl with a long braid follows closely behind him, their hands linked tight. Azula’s first instinct is to laugh, and she does. Her second is to zero in on exactly who knocked over the cabbages. She notices his tattoos immediately, blue arrows running down his back, fluid as he weaves between the people on the street. Airbender tattoos, which means…

She has to tell Zuko. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- here we GO chapter 1!! this is gonna b my first multi-chaptered fic for atla and i'm v excited haha  
> \- idk if azula is rly redeemable in the canon timeline but i still want her to be happy so yeah i'm writing this au where she gets away from her father a little younger (10? 11?). like she's still angsty bc they both r but yeah  
> \- finally caved and used a (altered) dead girl walking reprise lyric for a song title. i don't like heathers that much but it makes me feel so many things in context of the atla kids? i cry every time. (also ace attorney characters i just.) yeah. I WISH WE'D MET BEFORE THEY CONVINCED YOU LIFE WAS WAR likE GOD  
> \- also me? forgetting that franziska von karma and azula aren't the same character and having azula call zuko little brother? it's more likely than you think.


	2. zuko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for mild sensory overload!

Zuko watches Azula leap off the edge. Her long, dark hair streams out behind her like ribbons on a baton and then fan out for just a moment when she makes impact on the lower roof. He turns away before she can see him watching her. 

The market below is too loud, too busy for Zuko’s mind, and it makes his thoughts come in messy fits and starts. He wants to blame that disastrous conversation with Azula on the incessant background noise, making him go all fuzzy at the edges, but some part of him reminds that the heavy weight of the Blue Spirit mask in his backpack and on his mind probably had more to do with it. 

He’d been out all night- with Jet for a little while, then alone, spinning his own life for a few hours. It had been… an indulgence. Being with Jet had been an indulgence in itself, and a dangerous one at that, but Zuko’s usually smart enough to go right home afterwards. The Blue Spirit can’t exist anymore, and he knows that. 

Sometimes he just does his best to forget. 

He readjusts his backpack and swipes his hair out of his face. The quickest route back to the shop is just a few leaps over the roofs of buildings, but he’s trying to be better at taking the long routes down on the city floor. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen to the shop and Uncle Iroh if someone saw him roof-jumping and got spooked enough to call the Dai Li. 

Still… Uncle doesn’t know where he is right now. He doesn’t want to worry the old man, who has enough on his plate. Every moment he stays out is another moment Iroh has to notice his absence.

Zuko stands, readjusts his knapsack again, and jumps to the nearest rooftop, then the next, and the next. He doesn’t think about much of anything while he jumps, just a little too worried about falling to ponder his place in the universe, but he feels his mind start to reorganize as he gets away from the buzzing of the market and his inner fire unfurls with the new presence of Agni above the horizon. 

He leaps from the windowsill of one last house and lands half a block from the Jasmine Dragon, paper lanterns hanging from the poles over the windows. Warm light streams from inside, casting orange shapes against the cool sunlight of early morning Agni. Zuko can hear a collection of regulars from here, and he braces himself for work. Today isn’t a good day- normally an argument with Azula wouldn’t have rattled him as much as it did. Normally he wouldn’t have had to stay out later just to get back to feeling okay. Normally his mind wouldn’t feel like it’s straining against the edges of a barrier Zuko can’t quite see.

“Morning, Uncle,” he says, raising one head in greeting as he makes a beeline for the back room. Maybe if he starts doing inventory, something where he doesn’t have to be around people, Iroh will let him be. Maybe-

“Good morning! You’ll mop, won’t you? You said you would last night.”

Zuko had promised, yeah, before going to his room and slipping out the window. He’d already been late to meet Jet, but he’d felt overwhelmingly guilty about leaving Iroh without a Pai Sho partner. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, okay.” He changes his route to grab a mop and sling his coat over a peg in the wall. He takes a moment to recuperate, then walks back into the main shop. 

It smells like black tea and sweat, just a little. He starts to mop in a corner and lets his mind wander absently.

He feels guilty about lying to Azula during their conversation. Both times were to placate her- lying about where he was because he wants her to know that it’s okay to have friends, that if he can have Jin she can get to know the girls at school, lying about Uncle sending him because he needs her to know that Uncle cares about her too. Well, he needs her to think that. He’s not really sure if Uncle does, sometimes, when the old man looks more wary than anything else. 

Of course, she’d gotten defensive about it both times.  _ Iroh’s scared of what I’ll do,  _ she’d snarled, and… god, Zuko doesn’t know. Maybe she’d been right. He sees the way Uncle looks at them and Zuko knows that as much as he plays up the kindly old man image, he’s still the Last Dragon of the West. 

He knows that Iroh is scared that the two of them will put the life he’s built for them at risk and he knows that everytime he dons his mother’s old mask he affirms Iroh’s fears. So he lies, and he sneaks back into bed at three in the morning to get what little sleep he can manage before nightmares ambush him again. And he tries so hard not to have to do either of those things, tries to burn the mask and break up with Jet and stay home to be the good nephew, the antitheses to the antagonistic niece. 

He’s just not very good at being good.

He casts a quick glance up at where Iroh stands behind the counter, preparing tea orders and chattering with his customers. The old man is much better at customer service than either his niece or his nephew, so he usually takes over the counter while they clean or make tea. Jin is standing with one forearm resting on the high counter, a porcelain cup of tea resting in her hands. She grins when Zuko meets her eyes and bounds over to him, tea splashing precariously.

“Heyyyy, Zuzu,” she says, dropping to sit cross-legged on a nearby table. She’s Uncle’s favorite of their customers, so she won’t get called out for sitting on the table. 

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko says. It comes out more grumpy than he intends. The nickname makes him think about Azula, which makes him think about their argument, which makes him wish  _ so much  _ that it hadn’t been a lie when he told Azula that he’d been out all night with Jin, that he thought she was as beautiful as the lanterns in the square. 

Jin’s smile drops into a concerned look, which is so much worse. Zuko doesn’t want to drag her down with him. He feels like he’s always dragging people down. “Okay, Zuko. How’s it going? Boy troubles?”

Zuko grimace-smiles at her. “Always.” Jin’s the only one that knows about Jet, that knows about Zuko’s queerness. Zuko had… he’d thought Azula knew, but she obviously didn’t. “It’s just my sister, though.” He stares at the mop handle, worn from years of use. “Ah, if it’s okay…”

Jin cocks her head.

“I’d like to be alone right now,” Zuko says with a quiet sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Jin looks like she’s making a conscious effort not to be hurt, which Zuko appreciates. A small part of him reminds that if he weren’t here, if he were someone else who wasn’t so overwhelmed with simple emotions, she wouldn’t be hurt in the first place. “That’s okay, I get it. I’ll just go…” she looks down at her tea, then out at the tea shop. She points at a gaggle of girls in the corner. “Sit with some of my friends, I guess. We can talk later.”

“Yeah, later,” Zuko echoes. He watches her walk away and goes back to mopping. He’s not sure how much times goes by, only that Azula isn’t back yet and that time seems to be passing unusually slowly. Another gaggle of teenagers- or, a pair of kids that may or may not be teenagers- sit at the table next to Zuko and Zuko tries his hardest not to glare at them.

He steals glances- a girl and a boy, Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe. Probably the Southern Water Tribe. Zuko remembers from his lessons at the palace that the Northern Water Tribe is relatively isolated. Still, Zuko doesn’t see many people from either tribe. It makes him wonder exactly what the Fire Nation did to the two tribes, what he wasn’t told.

The girl is short and younger than the boy, with milky eyes and messy hair. She’s chattering animatedly as the boy sips his tea. Zuko lets his eyes drift up to the Water Tribe boy’s face, which is… startlingly attractive, actually, soft-cut with a prominent nose and brown eyes that sparkle with laughter at whatever the girl is saying. 

“Hey, Sparky,” the water tribe boys says, waving a hand. Zuko blinks.

“Do you work here?” the girl asks and the boy rolls his eyes.

“No, Toph, he just goes to random tea shops to wear aprons and mop.” He looks apologetically at Zuko. “Sorry, my… little sister is an idiot as well as blind.”

“Whatever, Sokka,” Toph says, reaching over the table to punch the boy. Sokka. Whatever. “It was a conversation starter.”

“I’m not very good at those,” Zuko says awkwardly. Sokka is still smiling at him, even as he’s gripping the arm that Toph just punched. His smile is really nice. Nicer than Jet’s, which always looks a little like he’s going to bite off Zuko’s head.

“Conversation starters?” Toph asks.

“Conversations,” Zuko says. Both customers laugh and Zuko can’t decide if he should be proud of making them laugh or embarrassed. It’s the kind of joke that makes it seem like people are laughing at you no matter how you spin it, but something tells Zuko that they’re not being mean spirited.

“Tell me about it,” Toph says, kicking her bare feet up onto the table. Sokka pushes them down again, shooting Zuko another apologetic look. Toph continues as if nothing had happened. “Socks here has a little sister and I haven’t had a single nice conversation with her.”

“That’s not true,” Sokka protests, “you guys went to get mani-pedis yesterday!”

“That doesn’t count,” Toph says.

“It so does! That was a whole  _ day  _ spent having nice conversations. Don’t be mean to my sister.” Sokka looks at Zuko and shakes his head, like the two of them are in on Sokka’s exasperation with Toph. Zuko feels his mouth quirk into a smile. “Besides,” Sokka says, half to Toph, “I’ve got two other little siblings too!”

“Oh?” Zuko says. Toph looks equally confused. 

Sokka reaches over the table to poke at Toph’s cheeks and she bats his hands away absently. “You and Aang! I swear, if I weren’t there to play big brother, you three would go walking right into a lion’s den.” He beams down at her, the picture of joking older siblingry, and Zuko feels an odd pang of nostalgia for something he and Azula had never had. 

“Who’s Aang?” Zuko asks, his slight smile still sitting carefully on his face.

“Oh, he’s the Avatar,” Sokka says offhandedly, “about yee high, cute little baby face, funky tattoos.” He gestures vaguely to illustrate his point but Zuko stops listening almost immediately.  _ The Avatar.  _ Of course. Of course the first conversation Zuko’s had today that made him stop thinking about his father and the Fire Nation ends like this. God, Azula- Azula can’t know. About the Avatar, or about Father’s promise, or- why would she know, anyway.

The quiet chatter of the Jasmine Dragon, a sound that’s usually soothing at best and mildly grating at worst, starts to close in on Zuko, the conversations three tables away chasing away the ends of Zuko’s thoughts. He doesn’t realize he’s spaced out until he looks down at Sokka’s concerned face.

_ What a nice face, _ Zuko manages to think. Sucks that he was the bearer of such awful news. It feels like everyone Zuko likes is just a metaphor for another thing that could hurt Iroh and the Jasmine Dragon.

“You okay, man?” Sokka asks. “You spaced out for a second there.”

“I’m okay,” Zuko says quietly. “Uh, I just remembered that I have inventory to sort. I forgot about it earlier. I’ll see you two again soon,” maybe. Not if Zuko can help it. If they come back with the Avatar, who knows what could happen to the shop. The debacle with Jet was enough stress for Iroh forever. Also enough stress for  _ Zuko  _ forever. Those years at the palace without his mother maxed out his stress meter for the rest of his life and he can’t handle  _ anything  _ anymore. 

“Yeah, okay,” Sokka says, forehead still creased in worry. He sips at his tea and Zuko slips away through the crowd, back to the hallway behind the counter. When he looks over his shoulder Sokka is back to talking with Toph. 

He puts the mop back and wraps himself in his brown jacket again. It’s too warm for the steamy air inside the Jasmine Dragon, but the jacket usually helps when he gets overwhelmed. It was Lu Ten’s, before Zuko’s cousin was killed, and the thick and rough fabric makes Zuko feel safe. He takes a breath. 

_ The Avatar.  _ God, he needs to- he needs to find Uncle, he needs to tell him… what. Tell him to leave? To hide, to find the Avatar- Zuko could go  _ home,  _ he just needs a plan, just needs to think clearly, needs to get away from the buzzing chatter of the tea shop. No, he needs Uncle.

Iroh is brewing another pot of tea and he looks quietly perturbed when Zuko comes up to him. “Nephew,” he says, “why aren’t you mopping?”

“I need to talk to you about something,” Zuko says, eyes flickering to Sokka and Toph again. “It’s important, Uncle.”

“You’re speaking to me now,” the old man says. “Anything you can’t tell me now can wait.”

“Uncle,” Zuko says again, hoping his- terror? stress?- comes through. Iroh’s brow furrows, but he gestures to the line of people waiting to get their orders in.

“I have customers, Zuko. Are you  _ sure  _ this can’t wait?” All of Zuko is screaming that  _ no, it can’t  _ but Iroh’s tone doesn’t leave room for debate. He hangs his head and scuffs at the ceramic floor.

“I guess it can, yeah.”

“Good. I’m excited to hear what it is later.” Iroh’s eyes sparkle. “If it’s about Jin, you know that girls love chocolates, right?”

Zuko stares at the grout between the ceramic- some of the tiles are blue glazed, a indulgence of Iroh’s when he redid the shop. Jin. Another lie to Uncle, but it’s all to keep them safe. To make sure Iroh keeps loving them both, to make sure Iroh doesn’t keel over in his worrying. “I’ll keep that in mind, Uncle,” he says. “I… uh, I have to go, if that’s okay. Jin and I have a… we have a date.” Zuko knows that the second Iroh does a proper scan of his customers and sees Jin sitting in the corner with her friends his cover will be blown, but he doesn’t have the space to think about repercussions right now, just that he has to be outside, away from the noise and the Avatar’s friends. 

“I’m happy for you, nephew,” Iroh says, carefully taking the teapot off the burner. Zuko smiles tightly and slips out the back door, back into the alley behind their apartment. 

Happy for the lie, right. At least he’s happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- zuko is a lil ooc in this chapter just bc i think his motivations/attitudes r a little different in this au. don't worry it's purposeful. also i thought that if azula and zuko had the exact same arc of realizing ozai sucks it would be kinda boring so yeah. zuko just wants his family to be happy :(  
> \- ugh writing zuko being overwhelmed by noises kinda fucked me up tbh. my music was rly loud and i went ahhh so like. yeah idk how much i'll talk about that again. like i know it wasn't much in the chapter but it made my brain go >:(  
> \- i also hadn't planned to talk abt homophobia in this at allll but vauge refrences to it kinda slipped out. i refuse to write internalized homophobia bc it makes me tired. it's unclear rn whether zuko not telling ppl abt jet is because jet sucks or if because jet is a guy and i'm on the fence abt which one it should be. if u have an opinion, tell me in the comments!! i usually steer away from writing homophobia in my fanfic bc it's like.. a safe space for me and stuff but like i'm open to it this fic. i might anyway. idk.

**Author's Note:**

> \- you can find me on tumblr [@lazypigeon](https://lazypigeon.tumblr.com/).  
> \- pls comment and kudos if u liked this!! love u all and i hope u have a good day


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